


A Lingering Thread

by virvatulilla



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Red String of Fate, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 11:36:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13433913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virvatulilla/pseuds/virvatulilla
Summary: Red thread of fate AU. Vicos/Kúura. This was a xmas gift for a friend, and i'm putting it here now too as she has now read it.





	A Lingering Thread

When Vicos woke up one morning, there was a red thread wrapped around his wrist.

It was perfectly normal. The red thread, hanging loosely in midair just told him that finally, today was the day he would experience a new fated encounter.

As Vicos got up to do his morning routines he tried to remember what he had been taught about the threads of fate. Vicos had experienced several fated encounters before, but none of the threads had been red. Blue marked friendships, while yellow marked bonds with family members, purple something that Vicos didn’t remember, and black was for bad things, so red had to be for lovers. Vicos looked at the thread on his wrist. He had had a red thread before, but it had been more pink than red – signifying something like puppy love. It didn’t matter much to Vicos, he didn’t worry about fate. After all, the encounter was just the first part of it – what happened after that wasn’t set in stone. It was about whether you and your fated person could make the connection last.

On his arms Vicos had threads in several colours. If the relationship was stable, only the part wrapped around each person’s arm was visible, the threads appearing only if there was something wrong. Threads that had been broken faded, and if the connection couldn’t be restored after the threads breaking, they disappeared.

Vicos checked his upper arm, but nothing had happened to the black rings there. He sighed, both in relief and disappointment. Black threads were the ones everyone was the most eager to get rid of, but often they were the ones that persisted the longest.

Serrence, Vicos’s oldest little sister, who had a room on the other side of the bathroom on the same floor as Vicos knocked on the door. “Are you finished soon?” she called. “I know you don’t care if you’re late from school but I do, get out of there!”

Vicos sighed, and rolled down his pajama sleeves to cover the colorful marks. He put a finger lightly on the stripe signifying his connection to Serrence, and could faintly sense her emotions – mostly irritation and worry.

“You’ll be fine–” Vicos was saying when he opened the door, but paused. “Woah. You look like shit.”

Serrence rolled her eyes. “Thanks for pointing it out, brother,” she said sarcastically, pushing past Vicos to hog the bathroom to herself. “I might have done some things last night that I regret today since I have to look presentable at school.”

Vicos didn’t get another word in the conversation as Serrence slammed the door shut in front of him and turned the lock. He backed away almost warily, already hearing his sister’s annoyed cussing.

Their stepmother, Volla had probably been awake for hours already, as she was making pancakes in the kitchen when Vicos walked in. “Good morning,” she said cheerfully, handing Vicos a glass of orange juice. “Sleep well?”

Vicos shrugged, taking a plate from the cupboard and stacking pancakes on it. “You have to eat something else too,” Volla told him. “I made some yougurt when I was visiting home, please help yourself to some. There’s berries too.”

If it had been up to just their mom and dad Vicos and his five siblings wouldn’t have had anyone to see to it that everyone was eating proper and good food. Both Xilien and Parrai Benoutinan were so busy with their jobs that before Volla had showed up the house’s oven had hardly ever been used.

When Vicos was finishing his pile of pancakes, Serrence stormed into the kitchen. She was obviously in a hurry, huffing directions at Volla and wolfing down a pile of pancakes in two minutes. “Can you drive me to school?” Serrence asked Volla.

Volla looked uncomfortable being made to face Serrence in a hurry – Vicos could guess she could seem intimidating if you hadn’t been in the same situation hundreds of times. He could sense Volla didn’t want to say no but would probably have to because she had something important to do. Vicos sighed.

“I’ll drive you,” he told Serrence, getting up from the table. “Get your ass ready in two minutes.”

Vicos was leaning on one of the family’s cars waiting for Serrence when suddenly, the red thread on his wrist trembled. By instinct he pressed the back of his hand on it like he would if any other of the threads behaved like that – try to feel what was wrong with her – but he felt nothing. It was like that before the encounter.

Serrence, who was running to the car noticed the red on Vicos’s wrist before he could hide it. Other people could see the threads where they were attached to the skin, but not the actual threads. “Oooooh, you’re gonna meet your future lover today,” Serrence teased. “Maybe you should go to school early, you’ll probably meet her there.”

Vicos scowled at his sister when he started the car. “Shut up,” he said. “If you say _anything_ about it to anyone, I’m gonna tell mom you used her makeup today.”

“I did not!” Serrence hissed, but Vicos could see her blush, even when he didn’t look at her directly. “But I still won’t tell. Where’s all the fun if anyone can tease you about it?”

 

* * *

 

 

Kúura was late on the first friday of school, and he was pissed. Most of his siblings had left before him, and none of them had even bothered to wake him up. He practically jumped into his clothes, and did not even bother thinking about brushing his teeth in order to save time.

“Why are you still here?” his mother asked when she saw Kúura run down the stairs. “All the other girls left already.”

Kúura grimaced, but didn’t have the energy or the time to have that argument with his mother again. Instead he just threw on some outdoor clothes, slipped into his shoes and ran outside without telling his mother goodbye.

Luckily for Kúura he caught the next bus. When he was comfortably on the way to school, staring out of the window with his headphones on his ears, wondering for the third time that morning why he was still living with his mother. The answer was simple: living alone wouldn’t be affordable because his mother wouldn’t give him money to survive, telling him to stop taking testosterone. He had been living with his dad for some time, but he had now fallen so deep in debt that he barely had the money to feed himself.

Kúura was so deep in thought that he almost missed his stop. When he stepped out he noticed something different about his fate threads. He had a new one, and it was dark red.

Kúura almost shouted – from frustration, fear, anger, joy? – he didn’t even know it himself, and yanked at the thread on his wrist. It didn’t have any effect. Kúura sighed, and let it be. It was a huge relief that the thread wasn’t going towards his school. At least he could be safe from new fated encounters there. He looked around him to see if there were any other new threads coming from him, and saw none.

The day went by in a flash, and the first period teacher didn’t even notice Kúura coming in fifteen minutes late. It was the first week so in most of the classes they didn’t actually do anything productive, and Kúura spent most of the day observing the red thread. He half hoped it would fade or broke before the encounter ever happened if he just kept trying to pluck it from his wrist.

Of course, that never worked. Kúura only stopped doing it after school when he met up with friends. The red thread was still pointing away from where he was going, and as the evening drew closer Kúura started hoping that the fated encounter was never going to happen after all.

Someone had brought drinks for everyone, and how could Kúura have refused a free drink? He was one of only three people who wanted to drink that night, however, but after some persuading two others agreed to go to the bar with them.

Kúura didn’t care that he probably drank too much. He drank to forget about the red thread on his wrist, to lose sight of it and concentrate on having fun with these friends, even though he had never shared a thread with some of them.

There was only two of them left when they entered the second bar half an hour before midnight. Some places hadn’t even been open because it was some holiday Kúura hadn’t known that existed, and even though everything in this place was crazy expensive Sera told him her sugar mommy would be there, so they just had to go, Kúura wasn’t even given a chance to say no.

The prices hurt Kúura’s soul, so he scoped the room if he could find someone who could be interested in him enough to buy a drink. Sera had found her sugar mommy and was sitting with her in a table, sipping something bright blue from a fancy glass.

Kúura sat on a high barstool beside the bar so long that the bartender came to talk to him. He was young, probably only a couple years older than Kúura, staring at him with such intensity he almost forgot how to talk.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” the bartender said, pushing a glass of water towards him. “What brings you here tonight?”

Kúura sighed loudly and drank the water in one gulp. “My friend,” he said, gesturing towards Sera, who was clearly occupied with the lady who was looking at Sera with an affectionate smile on her face.

“I see,” the bartender chuckled. “Fancy a drink? On the house, of course. I noticed you looking for someone to buy you a drink– well, here he is.”

“Yes please. You choose something for me,” Kúura said, smiling. The bartender’s eyes smiled when Kúura leaned on the bar with both of his elbows. “I’m sure it’s gonna taste good because it’s coming from someone as beautiful as you.”

The bartender chuckled. “That’s an unusual compliment,” he said, smiling adorably as he was making Kúura’s drink. “I like you already.”

“Enough to make out with me?” For a moment Kúura was certain he has said something out of line and would be thrown out of the bar. Then he laughed, and leaned towards Kúura across the bar. “I’m not allowed to, um, do that when I’m working,” he said, his fingertips brushing across Kúura’s knuckles. “But if you’re willing to wait, my shift is over in an hour.”

 

* * *

 

 

Out of all the places in the world Vicos had never expected to have his fated romantic encounter in the bar where he worked late evenings. And with a male customer who was waiting for another drink even though he looked like he had had enough to drink already.

Vicos was also surprised it had been a guy. He knew his preferences regarding what genders he usually liked, and what he found the most attractive in women, but he hadn’t even thought a guy looking like that could make him feel like that. He blamed it partly on their thread connection, but he still couldn’t stop himself from wondering what it would be like to kiss his neck, or what his bleached hair would feel like, tickling his thighs…

In an attempt to make his fated lover more sober Vicos gave him as many glasses of water than he could without being suspicious. Even water was actually charged for in this place, but something made Vicos want to care for this person so much that he didn’t think how much he would have to pay.

Vicos had expected the guy to suspect something when he slipped him his sandwich he’d had packed for himself to eat after the shift, but he must have thought it also belonged in their regular menu. Also for Vicos’s surprise he actually waited for him until the shift was over.

“Hey,” Vicos said, tapping the bar in front of the guy. “Come with me to the back.” From the way he walked Vicos could see the guy wasn’t that drunk anymore. His friend had left earlier with her companion, which was probably one reason he looked more suspicious of Vicos than when he had been more drunk. It was a good sign, because Vicos couldn’t have done anything with him if he was too drunk to be suspicious.

“Are we gonna make out here?” the guy asked, scratching the back of his head, looking around in the employees’ space. “Doesn’t look ideal.”

Vicos shook his head. “Outside,” he said, pushing the guy towards the men’s lockers. “I just need to change first.”

Vicos changed his clothes faster than probably ever before. He even left his hair tied back, and emerged from the locker room to find the guy still waiting for him. Vicos didn’t know why exactly, but he sighed from relief and smiled. Was he looking forward so much to making out with him? “Let’s do this,” the guy said, grabbing Vicos by the collar and dragging him towards the exit. Vicos didn’t resist, he very much liked the way this was going. As soon as they were out of the door Vicos found himself pinned to the wall. “I don’t know why I feel this way about you,” the guy told him, “but I feel like I have to do this. Can I kiss you?”

Vicos said yes, and the moment the word had left his lips it was replaced by the lips of this stranger, his fated encounter, his hands pulling Vicos down towards him. Vicos’s hands moved on his body like they were exploring territory they knew but had forgotten, and now found again. Making out with his fated lover for the first time made Vicos feel like he was getting drunk of him. Maybe it was the smell of alcohol in his breath, but to Vicos it felt like every place where their bodies touched gave him a new high, gave him new life, and they hadn’t even touched skin anywhere else than hands, face and neck.

A hand slipped under Vicos’s shirt, and he gasped from the sensation – not only because the fingers were ice cold. The guy smiled against his mouth. “Let’s fuck.”

“Not here,” Vicos chuckled, amused. “Anyone can see us out here.”

“Can you at least jerk me off or something?” the guy asked. “I need more than just this. Y’know? I can see you’re turned on. Let’s do it.”

Vicos looked him straight in the eye. “Are you sure?” he asked. “We can go to where I live, and you can change your mind at any point. Okay?”

“Stop asking already,” the guy said, draping himself on Vicos. “I’ve already told you five times I wanna fuck you, so let’s just go. I’m almost sober anyway. What bus should we take?”

Vicos gave a soft laugh. “Sounds like we want the same thing then,” he said. “And there’s no need to take the bus, I have a car.”

On the drive to his home Vicos took a planned detour, giving the guy time to sober up some more. While driving he told him at least twice that if he changed his mind Vicos could always drive him home. After the second time there was an annoyed pause. “Dude, if you don’t wanna do it we don’t have to,” the guy said. “You sound so worried about my consent that you’re forgetting your own. It sounds to me as if you’re trying to be polite and make me say I don’t want to do it. But _I do_. Do you?”

The stare Vicos was given made him feel a bit embarrassed. “I do,” he said after a while. “I’m just…” he hesitated, but then thought _what the hell, this was a fated encounter anyway_ , and continued. “I don’t want to be a reason for a black ring on your arm. I don’t want you to end up like me.”

Silence in the car didn’t last as long than Vicos had expected. “Okay,” the guy said. “I see where you’re coming from. And I want you to know that I’m sober enough by now. Probably thanks to your sandwich. I’ll need to go pee as soon as we arrive, though, but after that we can get to business.”

That was perfectly fine with Vicos. They arrived to his home shortly, and Vicos pulled the car into the garage. “One or two people might be home,” he warned as they stepped out of the car. “But if you don’t want to be seen I can tell you I’ve got company and they’ll know what to do.”

The guy chuckled. “I see I’m not the first person you’ve brought home. Yes, not being seen by your family right now would be appreciated.”

Vicos went inside the house first, but nobody seemed to be awake. He led the guy to the second floor and showed him the bathroom. Before he closed the door, however, Vicos stopped him. “Do you want to exchange names?” he asked. “It’s fine if you don’t want to, but I was just wondering…”

“Jack Frost,” the guy said with a smug smirk. “For now. I’ll tell my real name when we’re in your room.”

Vicos smiled in amusement. When ‘Jack Frost’ had closed the bathroom door he went to knock slightly on Serrence’s door. If she was awake, she would come complain later if he didn’t tell her what was about to happen.

It didn’t take Serrence many minutes to come open the door. “Oh, you came back,” she said, and from what he saw of her room and the overcaffeinated look on her face Vicos guessed she was prepared to pull an all-nighter doing… something Vicos had no idea of. “What do you have to say to me at this hour?”

“I’m having someone over and we’re going to have sex,” Vicos told her. “I thought I’d inform you before we do it.”

Serrence groaned. “ _Fine_ , I’ll go to Oferfia’s room,” she said. “She’s sleeping over at her boyfriend’s house anyway.”

Vicos stood by the bathroom door until Serrence had gathered her things and taken them upstairs. He knew the walls separating the hallway and the bathroom were not exactly soundproof, so there was no chance ‘Jack Frost’ hadn’t heard their conversation.

“She’s gone now,” Vicos said, knocking on the bathroom door once. “I’ll need to use the bathroom too, before–”

The door opened a crack, and from the opening Vicos could see ‘Jack’, who looked like he’d been crying. “I– I’m sorry,” he said. “I just remembered something important– about me – that I forgot to tell you, and I’m just… I feel scared, but I have to do it anyway.” He took a deep, shaky breath, and paused for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet Vicos could barely hear him. “I’m… trans.”

“Okay, I hear you,” Vicos said calmly. “That doesn’t change anything about how I feel about you, or our plans. That is, if you still want to have sex, Jack Frost.”

There was a huge sigh of relief. “It’s Kúura,” Vicos heard him say.

“Okay, Kúura,” Vicos said. “My name is Vicos. Are you still down to fuck me? I can always drive you home if you don’t want to.”

“Well… I _want_ to, but it’s more about if I _can_. Y’know, physically speaking…”

“I’ve got you covered,” Vicos reassured. “I’ve done this before, and I have the tools to do it again.”

Kúura didn’t say anything for a while, and then he pushed the bathroom door open all the way. “Sounds awesome,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

 

* * *

 

 

After sex Kúura and Vicos laid in bed, Kúura laying partly on top of Vicos. “I just noticed my fate thread from yesterday isn’t there anymore,” he told Vicos while he absentmindedly stroked his hair. “I guess it must have been someone I met while drunk.”

Vicos got a sudden coughing fit, as if he had swallowed badly. “You didn’t notice?” Vicos asked when he could breathe again. “I was your fated encounter.”

“What?” Kúura practically shouted. “But how? You’re a good person.”

Vicos looked puzzled. “Wouldn’t you have thought that about me if you knew I was on the other end of your fate thread? Why?”

Kúura drew patterns on Vicos’s chest for a while before answering. “Because I had a red thread before,” he explained, “but after I spent two hours near her, it turned black. This one.” Kúura pointed to a pitch-black ring on his left forearm. “I got scared that it would be like that this time too. Hell, actually now I am more afraid it will be like that, since I kinda like you. You’re interesting, and hot, and I’d always longed for a relationship not dictated by fate.”

“I know how you feel,” Vicos said – and he literally did, as Kúura had made him touch the red ring on his arm, to make Vicos able to feel a part of what he was feeling. “But the relationship is not dictated by fate anyway. It’s just the encounter. What we do afterwards, and whether we continue this relationship or not is entirely up to us. Fate doesn’t have a say in that.”

Kúura thought about it for a while. “I guess you’re right,” he said. “Would you like to try and make this into a proper relationship then? Judging by how many times you asked for my consent before we even came here I’m getting a feeling that you might be better for me than the person who was my first red thread.”

“Well, thank you,” Vicos said. “The same to you, by the way. Do you want to hear how I got my black stripes? These zebra markings?” He sat up and ran a hand along his upper arm that had no less than thirteen thin, black stripes. Kúura knew touching them with a palm wouldn’t make him feel what the other was feeling, as only touching the stripes with one finger and the intention to do so could share the emotions.

“Please, if you feel comfortable doing so,” Kúura said, sitting up as well. “Can I–?” he hovered a finger over his wrist, asking for a permission to pry into Vicos’s emotions as he was telling his story. Vicos gave him permission, and as Kúura touched his wrist he gasped from the intense bad feelings Vicos was going into for telling the story.

“My first red thread,” Vicos began, “I shared with my uncle. It sounds disturbing, and it was, and even more so because I was barely seventeen at the time. It– well, long story short, we were forced apart but met again as many times as there are black stripes on my arm. I don’t know why I got a new thread every time we met again, but I did, and every time they got darker and darker, until all of them turned black before I met him the last time… It’s been a long time but the stripes are still there, reminding me of him.”

When Vicos stopped, there were tears streaming down Kúura’s face. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That’s… it’s so wrong that you had to go through that. I’m so mad at fate right now.”

Vicos pressed a hand on Kúura’s cheek and wiped tears from his face. “Thank you for saying that,” he said. “It means a lot to me.”

Then Vicos did something that broke every unspoken taboo about the fate threads, and brought his wrist to touch the red ring on Kúura’s wrist. If there had still been a visible thread to connect them the gesture would’ve brought the ends of the thread together.

A sudden, intense feeling of pleasure hit Kúura like a lightning bolt and left him gasping for air. He saw – no, felt Vicos was experiencing the same exact emotion. They yanked their hands apart, both suddenly, on the back of their head they knew in that moment they had experienced exactly what the other was feeling.

“What was that?” Vicos asked, chest heaving. “Wasn’t anything I’d expected. I honestly didn’t think it would have any effect.”

Kúura put a hand firmly on Vicos’s bare chest and pushed him to lay on the bed on his back. “I don’t know what it was,” he said, “but it felt so good that this is worth losing sleep over. Let’s take this to round two, shall we?”

 

* * *

 

 

During the next couple of months mornings when Vicos woke next to Kúura were more numerous than those when he didn’t. It wasn’t all about sex, they did much more than just that. Things were awkward in the beginning, since neither of them had experience starting a relationship from that kind of a situation theirs had started, but after a couple of arguments and figuring out when they needed alone time and how they expressed certain needs they started getting better at the whole relationship thing.

There were compromises and misunderstandings, and one time that almost broke their whole relationship. They had talked about sleeping with other people, but when Vicos did it, Kúura cut all communications with him for two weeks.

Those two weeks were the most anxious time for Vicos in their relationship by far. He found himself staring at the red band on his wrist, almost touching it but he never could make himself do it. It stayed the same colour though, but every second of the two weeks Vicos was afraid the thread would change its colour.

But it didn’t. Instead, on a Monday morning he woke up the whole house with a full-blown panic attack. There was a new red thread on his wrist.

Geras, who was home for some weird vacation he had from his school told the other family members he would take care of Vicos so they could go to school and work. “I can’t go to school today,” Vicos said. “I can’t see anyone today. I just… I can’t.”

“It’s okay,” Geras reassured him. “I can make sure you stay home until tomorrow. Let’s have a brother’s day, right? For old times sake.”

Geras went to great lengths trying to make Vicos forget about the new red thread. They built a blanket fort, dug their old video games from the attic – which led to heated competitions, and then they got the bright idea to make some of the sickly sweet desserts they’d made up as kids. They were half done making one of those when they realized there were no marshmallows.

“Are you going to be okay for fifteen minutes?” Geras asked. “I’ll go get marshmallows from the store, it won’t take long but you can always call me if there’s something.”

“I’ll be fine,” Vicos said, laughing a little. “Just go.” Almost immediately after the sound of Geras’s car had disappeared, someone rang the doorbell.

It gave Vicos such a fright his heart almost jumped out of his mouth. Was his new fated encounter? Judging by the way the red thread moved, it had to be. Vicos thought that if he looked through the spyhole in the door, that wouldn’t be an encounter, and he couldn’t help but feel curious, as they didn’t get many unannounced visitors.

The person standing behind the door was Kúura. He was looking nervously around, holding a letter in his hand. Vicos sat down and spoke to him through the letterbox in the door. “What are you doing here?”

Kúura was obviously startled by the voice coming from the letterbox, and Vicos heard him yelp in surprise as he fell on his behind. He regained some of his dignity though, and put the letter through the letterbox. “I need you to read this,” he said. “As much as we thought we could read each other’s thoughts, we couldn’t, it’s just the emotions, and there’s no explanation for those. So here. These are my thoughts. Please, read them before letting me go.”

Vicos hesitated a little, but then accepted the letter. It was at least six pages long, but Kúura’s handwriting was large and easy to read, so Vicos read through it quickly. He had to read it twice, because he started sobbing halfway through it so much that he probably missed half the words. The tears weren’t sad tears though, Vicos cried from the intense feelings of relief, having a resolution, and the sheer amount of love radiating from the words. “I’m sorry,” Vicos said through the letterbox. “I thought I knew how you felt about the issue.”

“I’m sorry too,” Kúura told him. “I shouldn’t have cut all connections like that.”

“No, no, I understand that you needed time to gather your thoughts.”

“I understand how you feel about this too,” Kúura said. “Let’s work on our communication, alright?”

Vicos got up from the floor and opened the door. Kúura was sitting on the top of the stairs, and when he saw Vicos, he burst into tears. The red thread connecting them started to glow when Vicos scooped Kúura up from the ground and in his arms. They both cried so much that when Geras came home and saw the two of them on the floor, hugging each other and bawling their eyes out, he just went to bring both of them a pack of tissues.

 

* * *

 

 

It was the night before the wedding. Kúura and Vicos had just left the place where it would be held, being the last ones there before the day of the event – as was expected of the best man (and his bethrothed). Vicos, who had been busy all day with so many last-minute changes said he was too tired to drive, so he gave the car keys to Kúura.

They drove a long way in silence, the radio was playing softly as background music as Vicos dozed off. When they were halfway home Vicos jolted awake. “Are we home yet?”

“Twenty more minutes,” Kúura said. “You still have time to sleep.”

Vicos groaned, stretching his back. “I’m not that sleepy,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “How was it now, is Zeite the one who throws the flowers alone? I don’t remember what Geras said about that.”

“He told us to ask if Kandenere wants to participate in flower petal-throwing,” Kúura reminded Vicos. “Zeite is only three years old after all, so an assistant would probably be appreciated.”

“Mmmh,” Vicos said. “We both need to take a shower first thing tomorrow morning.” Kúura put a hand on Vicos’s thigh. “I know,” he said softly. “Do I sound like I’m nitpicking if I ask you whether you remembered the buttonhole flowers for the groomsmen and the bridesmaids?”

“I wasn’t in charge of that it was the maid of honour,” Vicos said tiredly. “I think he said he’d taken care of it and those will be delivered to us when we arrive tomorrow morning.”

Vicos put his hand on Kúura’s hand on his thigh, and stroked it with his thumb. They didn’t say much else during the remaining minutes of the drive, and when Kúura pulled the car to a stop in front of their apartment Vicos was so tired he said he could’ve slept in the car.

After a short and tired struggle they got up to their fifth-floor apartment and Kúura had to carry Vicos to the bed because try as he might to stay awake, being awake for more than thirty hours – due to Geras’s bachelor party and arranging the wedding – was taking its toll on him.

“Yes,” Vicos moaned when Kúura lowered him on the bed. “Please make out with me.”

Vicos was holding his arms tightly around Kúura’s neck, so he had no way to escape from his lover. He pressed a small kiss on Vicos’s lips and brought his lips to his ear. “Please go to sleep,” he said. “You need all the rest you can get before tomorrow.”

Vicos groaned, sliding his hands into Kúura’s pants to caress his butt. “But I don’t want to go to sleep yet,” he said, even though to Kúura he seemed like he could fall asleep any minute. “I haven’t had time to properly care for you in days. I want you to feel how much I care about you.”

Kúura stroked Vicos’s hair. “I can feel your love every day,” he said, smiling softly. “We can dance tomorrow at the wedding, and y’know, when we finally decide to have our wedding…”

That train of thought seemed to please Vicos. “Until we marry, I will make you fall in love with me so many times that your both arms will be full of red rings.”

Kúura kissed Vicos again. “Please do,” he said. “But now, please sleep. I’m going to sleep here right next to you.”

“I love you,” Vicos mumbled sleepily.

“I love you too,” Kúura answered. Vicos fell asleep right after hearing him say that, but Kúura was awake for a while longer, enjoying the feeling of safety in his lover’s arms.


End file.
